


Hands Off the Merchandise

by PhantomWriterAnon



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Loki, Established Relationship, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriterAnon/pseuds/PhantomWriterAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for a prompt at the Avengers Kink Meme.</p><p>I want Tony getting hurt by someone (can be anywhere from Ten Rings level to something like a broken arm from a doombot) and Loki going all vengeful God on them.</p><p>Tony and Loki don't have to be in a relationship yet (but if they aren't confession goodness would be nice!), or it's sex but neither have admitted feelings yet, I don't care. I'm just really craving some "laying waste" and "smiting God" Loki over someone hurting a hair on Tony's head and Tony finding it ridiculously attractive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands Off the Merchandise

Tony looked at his arm distastefully. Three seconds. If he'd only managed to be three seconds faster, he would've managed to completely avoid the boulder and with it, his shattered arm. Now, three hours of surgery later, he felt like the Tin Woodman listening as the doctor told him about the various pins, screws, and metal plates that were needed to hold his arm together. 

Really, he should be thankful that it wasn't worse. Anything more and it would be his  _entire_ body being held together by various instruments better suited to one of his suits than an actual human body. But that didn't change the fact that his arm hurt like  _hell_ , and his lover, who should've been there making everything better, was nowhere to be found. 

"How's it going, Mr. Robot?" Clint clapped a hand onto Tony's good shoulder, inclining his head toward the white fiberglass cast that was being elevated above the bed by thick, white bands that were suspended from the ceiling.  

"Wonderful. The surgeons did a fabulous job of reconstructing my arm." Or, at least, he assumed that they did. He hadn't actually seen what it looked like beneath the cast - just the mangled mess that it had been on the battlefield. "Can't say the same about your face, though. Botox job gone wrong, buddy?"

Clint smirked, flashing a bloody, bruised lower lip. "Funny, Stark. I think you're gonna be just fine."

The rest of the team filed in, looking equally worse for wear. "So... dare I ask... what happened after I blacked out?" From the grim look on their faces, he knew the answer. 

"It was a hard loss -," Steve started, but Natasha cut him off. 

"Just cut to the chase, okay, Cap? We had our asses handed to us." She bit out. She was sporting a healthy amount of gauze on her midsection, where a shattered rock had impaled her midsection. "That's what happens when you don't find out your opponent is telekinetic until halfway through a mission."

Tony sighed. Yeah, it had definitely been a hard loss. Baddie-of-the-week had turned out to be a telekinetic with latent powers, which apparently activated under extreme duress - otherwise known as men and women in spandex and metal suits of armor (not to mention a giant green rage monster) asking (if 'asking' translated to pointing huge guns at you and  _demanding_ ) you to turn over nuclear codes you didn't even remember stealing - and the Avengers had paid the consequences of receiving poor information. 

At the lesser end of the spectrum, Clint's lower lip looked like he'd made-out with a cactus. The wounds gradually escalated, from Steve's concussion, to Natasha's bloodied midsection, to Tony's shattered arm. Nobody had seen Bruce since the middle of the battle, but the big guy was pretty impervious to harm, so they weren't too worried. 

Which left Thor. Tony had to admit, he was more than a little surprised that the blond god of thunder  _wasn't_ there. If he remembered correctly, Thor had been the unfortunate one to discover that baddie-of-the-week could lift people in addition to objects. He'd tossed the god around like a rag doll, before slamming him into the side of a skyscraper and leaving him there in the collapsing structure. 

"Has anyone heard from Thor?" Tony looked at his comrades, who looked between each other questioningly. 

Steve opened his mouth to answer that they had not, in fact, seen the god of thunder since the battle, when a strange green energy enveloped the door to Tony's hospital room. A second later, the door disintegrated in a puff of green smoke, and an irate god of mischief (with god of thunder in tow) stormed in.

"Son of Stark," Loki hissed, his voice dangerously low. "Give me his name."

"His name?" Maybe it was the morphine pump finally doing it's job, or maybe he was just so stumped by the question he was rendered momentarily speechless... regardless, Loki wasn't pleased by his answer. 

Placing his hands on his hips, green energy radiated from his fingertips. Normally docile blue eyes flashed a dangerous green. "Yes, his name. The name of the one who has taken it upon himself to rearrange the bones in your arm."

Tony's cast began to glow with that same eerie green light that had enveloped the door just a moment before. The burning pain that had enveloped him moments before began to dull, bringing him relief in a way that the morphine simply couldn't. It was like a gentle hand was going in and healing him from the inside out. When the force withdrew itself, Tony couldn't help but feel strangely lonely - like he'd lost something important. 

"Name, Son of Stark." Loki insisted. "I will find out, regardless. But I would very much appreciate if you cooperated for once in your life and let me take care of you, you foolish, stubborn mortal." That was as close to a declaration of love as he'd ever get. 

"Aww, I think that he cares about you." Clint griped. 

That green energy shot out and formed a needle and thread, sewing Clint's mouth closed. It was, in effect, virtually painless, but the effort was worth it when Clint tried to open his mouth and his eyes grew to the size of saucers when he realized that he couldn't. Tony started cracking up as he watched Clint's hands go to his mouth, his fingers frantically tugging at intangible fibers. Natasha just shook her head. 

Once Tony had himself back under control, he finally caved and gave Loki what he wanted. "The kid's name is Julian Michael -,"

Before he'd even finished what he was saying, the god of mischief vanished in a puff of green smoke. Seconds later, the far side of Tony's hospital room (which was one long window overlooking the New York City skyline) was destroyed in an explosion of glass as the body of the telekinetic came crashing in. Loki floated in behind him, brushing a spec of debris off of his otherwise immaculate leather trench coat. 

Baddie-of-the-week was trying desperately to activate their powers, but caught in Loki's magic, their powers were rendered practically useless. With a flick of his wrist, the villain's body was enveloped in what looked to be a glowing green net. Opening his hand, he held it out in front of him, slowly forcing Julian to float over to him. When he was so close that they were practically sharing the same air, he dropped his hand. 

"Julian, pet..." he stroked the boy's chin, before patting his cheek condescendingly. "Your powers are little more than petty parlor tricks to me. But your carelessness has hurt the Man of Iron and his band of buffoons... and for that, I do believe that it is time to teach you to keep your hands off the merchandise."

Mumbling a quick spell beneath his breath, he catapulted right back out the window, before falling into a net of some sort and vanishing completely. The Avengers stood around in awe, dumbstruck by what they'd just seen.

"You didn't kill him, did you, brother?" Thor asked, a bit skeptical of the villain's sudden disappearance.

Loki smirked. "Now where would be the lesson in that?" Walking over to Tony, he began to remove the contraptions that were currently pinning him to the bed. "Come now, pet. I must fully examine the work of these so-called healers. Who knows what kind of damage they could have done to your fragile mortal countenance?"

Grabbing hold of Tony's good arm, he helped him off the bed, before making his way toward the door. Tony shuffled behind, trying to hide his painfully obvious hard-on. What? It was rare that Loki was in a smiting mood (and didn't want to kill the entirety of New York because of it). And there was honestly nothing hotter than Loki dishing out some major punishment to the baddies while barely having to lift a finger.

(And by the way Steve had hunched over in his seat, it was clear he thought so too...) 


End file.
